


Iluvia Abaja

by flugantamuso



Category: Good Omens - Gaiman & Pratchett, New World Zorro
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flugantamuso/pseuds/flugantamuso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Los Angeles has a few unusual visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iluvia Abaja

Pueblo de los Angeles was a desert town. Rough scrubs and cacti grew between the buildings, and what trees there were were small and stubby. The only remotely green places were along the streams, and in the dead of summer even they turned brown as the streams dried up. Which was why it was such a surprise to have constant rain for a fortnight.

His great-grandfather, Diego thought, had not planned for contingencies. There had better be no emergencies for the next few days, or possibly months, because the cave was flooded. Poor Toronado was standing belly deep in water with no way of getting out. When the water finally went down there would be a tremendous mess, and Felipe had already communicated that _he _was not going to be the one to clean it up.

If Diego had been a sulking sort of man he would have sulked, but he wasn’t and so he didn’t, though he was sorely tempted. Instead, he spent a lot of time in the Tavern on the second floor balcony, where Victoria had taken to serving meals since the first floor had flooded. She’d converted one of the bedrooms into a kitchen and was turning out surprisingly good food, given the circumstances.

Victoria, Diego’s heart missed a beat as he felt the surge of a most pure and ardent love—

“A bit melodramatic,” said an irritated voice behind his left shoulder.

Diego did _not _jump, but it was a near thing.

“Excuse me?” He turned around. There were two men sitting at a table, both in the dress of gentlemen, though one was significantly younger than the other. Suspiciously, the darker one had his hat tipped so far forward that Diego couldn’t see his eyes, and his boots appeared to be made out of—here Diego blinked—snakeskin. That one leaned forward and repeated,

“It’s just so gooey and mushy. I’m sick of hopeless love affairs.”

“Now, dear,” remonstrated the other, who had a kind face, “you know that we’re not supposed to interfere. Besides, I think that they’re sweet.”

There was a sound of choked laughter, and Diego felt his face turn red. Who knew who was listening to this bizarre conversation? A dreadful thought struck him, suppose Victoria was listening? He hastily cleared his throat and said,

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid that you have the wrong idea.”

The second gentleman chuckled and stood up, saying gently, “Oh, I’m afraid that it’s quite—“

He was interrupted by a cold voice from the head of the stairs.

“I see that our faire pueblo has aquired some visitors who have not yet paid the traveller’s tax.”

Alcalde Ramon stepped onto the balcony, an insidious light in his eyes. Sergeant Mendoza was behind him, shoulders hunched, looking a little hunted as he always did in the presence of his superior officer. Ramon approached the group with his hands behind his back, a small and devious smile forming on his face at the prospect of adding a few pesos to his current wealth. Diego had always despised the Alcalde for this small-mindedness more than for the cruelty he often displayed. A cruel man might become gentle if he could learn to empathize with those he was cruel to, but a small-minded man would rarely be capable of shifting his attention off of himself long enough to realize that there were larger things at stake than his petty concerns.

As Ramon approached the first gentleman rose smoothly to his feet to stand beside his companion, a smirk on his face that matched the Alcalde’s. Ramon faltered, probably as unnerved by the man’s strange appearance as Diego was, but he recovered, eyes narrowing and said in a haughty voice,

“I’m afraid that you gentlemen will not be able to continue your meal here until you have paid the tax.”

The second gentleman was reaching for what Diego presumed was his wallet, but the other swatted at his arm, saying,

“Don’t bother angel.”

It was a strange appellation, but the following events would prove even stranger. The first gentleman turned to the Alcalde with a smile on his face and said,

“I’m afraid that you’re mistaken, we’ve already paid the tax.”

Normally this would be Ramon’s cue to huff and puff and drag the strangers off to his office, where he could charge them an even more exorbitant charge than he had been going to charge them, but this time he merely looked slightly puzzled and said in a curiously thick voice,

“Why yes, I believe that you have.” And with that he turned and strode down the stairs, leaving Mendoza on the balcony, watching him leave with an open mouth.

The second gentleman retrieved his wallet and turned to the first one, raising his eyebrows.

“That was an interesting display,” he commented, “but I’m afraid that we’ve outstayed our welcome. We should really be on our way.”

Mendoza turned upon hearing that, and said,

“Oh, but seniors, the rain is too strong, no coach will go in it. You would be better off waiting here until it stopped.”

The second gentleman smiled, and clasped Mendoza’s shoulder in a familiar gesture.

“Don’t worry Jaime, we have our own transportation,” and with that he disappeared down the stairs, followed by his strange strange companion, whose eyes Diego had not seen throughout the entire confrontation.

Mendoza looked slightly dazed, and Diego asked,

“Are you alright, Sergeant?”

Mendoza blinked, then focused his attention on Diego.

“Yes, Don Diego, I just felt strange there for a moment, warm all over.” He shook himself, then said in consternation, “The alcalde!” and ran hurried downstairs, his face red with exertion and embarrassment.

Before Diego could review the strange events that had occurred and try to make sense of them, Victoria appeared through a doorway and hurried over to the table.

“But where has Mr. Fell gone?” she asked.

“Who?” asked Diego, his head still full of thoughts of the preceeding encounter.

“Mr. Fell, the nice man who was sitting over there with his friend.”

This brought Diego’s attention back to the present. Perhaps Victoria would have some answers to his questions.

“They had a rather unpleasant conversation with the Alcalde and then left, who are they?”

Victoria’s lips thinned, she had even less respect for Alcalde Ramon than Diego had, and she could be rather protective of her customers.

“They’re visitors from Europe, though I never did get the younger one’s name. They shouldn’t have left in the middle of the rain,” she fretted.

Diego thought again about the strangers and their actions. He leaned back a little and said with complete honesty,

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Victoria, they’ll be fine.”


End file.
